


Hello (Long-Distance Melody)

by SilverBird13



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Eponine likes to swear, F/F, Grantaire Eponine bros for life, I couldn't resist, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Modern AU, Tumblr, background Valvert, Éposette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBird13/pseuds/SilverBird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was the stupidest decision of her life.</p><p>Coming from a prolific smoker, occasional drug user, and petty thief, that was something, Eponine thought."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello (Long-Distance Melody)

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea where this came from? I hope you enjoy my first fic for these two!

This was the stupidest decision of her life.  
  
 _Coming from a prolific smoker, occasional drug user, and petty thief, that was something_ , Eponine thought, snorting as she turned over in bed, praising God and all twelve apostles that even fucking Happie’s Homestyle Diner was required to give her three days off a month.  Home Depot was slightly more to her liking, but it alone wouldn’t pay the bills to keep her the fuck out of her parent’s way, so Eponine dealt.  Shutting off the alarm on her phone, she got up and immediately turned on her cheap laptop, grabbing a yogurt and getting water for her coffee.  
  
“Piece a’ shit,” she groaned, filling the slightly-cracked coffeemaker sitting on her desk and pulling the handle (covered with duct tape) down hard enough to break anything that wasn’t a relic from the goddamn eighties.  Satisfied with the vaguely demonic sounds coming from the machine, Eponine sat back down on her bed, eating her breakfast, dreading opening Google.  
  
Eponine summoned up her courage, however, and went through the motions, checking Facebook and scrolling quickly (oh fuck, did Bahorel really have his court date _today_?) as the little black boxes in the upper righthand corner of her screen began to pop up, forming a mass that was impossible to ignore.  
  
“Hey :)”  
  
“Did you catch the new ‘Fosters’ episode?”  
  
“I hope that’s us one day :)”  
  
“Fuck,” Eponine moaned, covering her mouth with one hand as she opened Skype and forced herself to face what she’d done.  
  
*****  
  
It had been Grantaire’s idea, of course.   
  
“No, Eponine, don’t fucking do this,” he’d said, beer bottle in hand as he watched his friend throw up the rum and cokes from the last two hours into the bushes, “Start a blog or some shit.  Look, I’ll help you.  I do it, you know.  It helps, kind of, and if _I'm_ fucking saying that...."  
  
Eponine didn’t remember much of that night, but a message on Facebook the next day with a link to her new Tumblr (atomic-dustland) and her first follower (pylades-art) had certainly eased her hangover (though the fucking layout of the site had nearly made her quit after ten minutes).   
  
*****  
Her first post had been about the night before.  
  
 _[[MORE]] Fuck everything.  Fuck my parents, fuck my job, fuck the fact that I can’t fucking stop feeling empty.  I work 14 hours, go out for drinks, and come back to nothing._   
  
And of course, her second follower, good old “brave-the-mercy” had responded:  
  
 _Eponine, you’re awesome, and I'm sorry :(  I have an idea, though :)_  
  
This epic saga had ended with Eponine heading to Home Depot with a hangover, no shower, and a bit of anticipation.  
  
It was something.  
  
****  
  
When Eponine returned that night to a new follower and a private message, she honestly considered deleting the stupid thing.  None of this could end well.  
  
“ _Hi!_ ,” the message began, typed on the parchment-style paper option, “ _My name’s Cosette!  I met Marius on here a while ago (did you know he’s a fandom-famous writer, haha?), and he told me to follow you yesterday-he says he thinks we’ll get along really well (okay, I only got it an hour ago because time zones, but you get the idea).  Anyways, I read your post-are you okay?  It might not look like it from my blog, but I had a really tough time up until I was 8, so I can relate to feeling low.  If you need anything, I’m here :)_ ”  
  
Eponine had rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee (fuck the fact it was 9 PM), deciding that one look at this girl’s blog couldn’t hurt.  Plus, she wondered what Cosette looked like.  Probably either like one of those American Appearal models or a 15-year old goth kid.  Or she was secretly a 50-year-old man.  
  
Ha.  
  
Cosette’s latest post in “Searching for the Sky” happened to be a “ _Selfie! Going to Pride today with my awesome dads.  So blessed to be accepted and loved for who I am by them :)_ ”  
  
And what a picture it was.  
  
A young 20-something was posed before her webcam, chestnut hair in a side braid with a rainbow ribbon running through it, matching her multicolored eyeshadow and striped tank top.  
  
Which drew Eponine’s attention to her rather noticable breasts, of course.  
  
Eponine shook her head to clear her thoughts and just looked at the screen, feeling a warmth rise in her chest.  The girl radiated happiness.  Warmth.  She was pretty, sure, but she looked _safe_.  
  
And so hard-ass, combat-boot, middle-finger-to-assholes-on-the-street Eponine Thenardier had sat on her bed that night and cried looking at a picture of a kind stranger who would be waking up in two hours to two loving parents.  
  
****  
In the words of Courfeyrac (or “live-fast-and-breathless”), it had escalated pretty quickly after that.    
  
Eponine, with the help of Grantaire and Marius, let herself message Cosette back a day later, and had received a response within the hour.  Shortly, (time zones permitting), they were going back-and-forth once an hour, trying to fit their days (in Eponine’s case) and dreams (In Cosette’s) and life stories into little paragraphs on a digital piece of notebook paper.  
  
Of course, with Cosette reading her blog, Eponine decided to spruce it up a bit, tracking the “classic horror”, “motorcycle”, and “hard femme” tags, reblogging and reading and feeling more at home among these strangers who contacted her asking about her own bike and thoughts on queer visibility than she even did on the weekends with her friends.  
  
Cosette, of course, remained special in Eponine’s eyes, and when, a few weeks later, she had coyly asked Eponine for her own selfies (“I’m an artist,” Cosette had written by way of explanation, “I want to be able to picture you!”), she had complied, having a glass of boxed wine as she straightened her hair and lined her eyes, shaking with nerves as she waited for a response.  
  
“Oh wow...I’d really like your Skype :3” Cosette had responded minutes later (Okay, so Eponine had posted the pictures the second she saw Cosette reblog a cupcake picture for the first time that day...).  
  
Well, at least Skype was easier to figure out and didn’t change layouts every 2 days.  
  
*****  
  
Eponine knew from the start of whatever this was that she wasn’t going to stop posting her read-more rants, however.  If her shitty life scared Cosette away, she knew the girl wasn’t worth the trouble.  At least this way, the sweet brunette on the other side of the world knew what she was getting into when she sent little Skype messages like “Your eyes are really pretty!  They remind me of Amy Pond’s!” between their nearly-nightly calls.  
  
But, Eponine noticed, the more she posted and messaged and saw Cosette, the less she felt the need to be angry.  
  
****  
  
Then, one night, it had gone the way Eponine was praying it would and dreading it wouldn’t.  
  
“Eponine,” Cosette had asked, sipping her Diet Coke and looking down at her desk, “this sounds really weird, since, you know, we’ve never met in person and we live so far away from one another, but I’m wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend.”  
  
Eponine fucking beamed at her through the screen, even as a worm of worry twisted in her chest.  “I’d really like that, Cosette,” she said softly, running her hands through her hair.  
  
Cosette giggled in return, clapping a bit as her hair bounced with her movements.  “I’m so happy!” she cried.  “Papa, Father, she said yes!”  
  
Eponine grinned as she heard two cheerful male voices respond in the background and the heavy footfalls of fat old Chouchou as Cosette blew her a kiss before disappearing from the room.    
  
The smile stayed on Eponine’s face as she went to shower and brush her teeth (if she imagined Cosette’s soft curves pressed against hers as she did so, she’d hardly deny it). The elated feeling, as ever, didn’t last, though, and soon Eponine was lying in bed, tossing and turning as she realized what a mistake she’d made.  
  
Cosette was wonderful, loving and gentle as a dove.  And now she was tied to Eponine, of all people.  Cynical, selfish, grouchy Eponine.  
  
And how long would it take for Cosette to realize that and leave a girl she’d never even met, for God’s sake?  
  
Eponine slept fitfully that night, dreaming of hazel eyes and knowing what she had to do the next morning.     
  
*****  
  
The coffeemaker made a new, more cicada-like sound, and turned off, making Eponine realize she’d be late for work if she did this now.    
  
_After work_ , she decided, closing Skype.  She’d let Cosette know it was a mistake, that she should meet someone in her area and bring her home to meet her parents and marry her, not rely on technology to keep her connected to a stranger across the ocean.  
  
****  
  
Eponine came back from Home Depot with a crick in her back, sweat stains on her vest, and a thirst for the blood of every asshole guy who thought “Hey, a kitchen tool’s workin’ with real tools now?” was a clever line.  Needless to say, she wasn’t in the mood to break up with someone, but it had to be done.  She turned on her laptop again, and reopened Skype.  
  
Tears immediately filled her eyes.  
  
“Hey, so I have a feeling you’re having second thoughts (was work tough today too?  I’m sorry).  I just want you to know that I’ll always be here, even if you think we shouldn’t be together, and that you mean more to me than any of the girls I’ve met here, and maybe Papa and Father would let me fly over to see you next summer?  Whatever you decide to do, I think you’re amazing, Eponine <3”

*****  
  
 _Nothing about the situation was ideal, but since when had anything been ideal for her?_ Eponine thought as she searched for a kissing gif from Snow White to include in her reply.  
  
But if anyone could make a daunting situation work, Eponine had a feeling it was her girlfriend.


End file.
